So you’ve been single for a distinct amount of time, and can’t quite pin-point why. I mean, you’re smart, not bad looking and fun. Ah! But exactly how much fun are you? Because as much as men are repelled by the thought of settling down with a boring cunt, they certainly don’t wanna take you home to mama when you’re clucking around the dinner table before going under on her Sunday roast. Let alone entertain the thought of trying to tame someone that’s firmly fixed in that Vauxhall bubble.
For years I was out on the Vauxhall scene, taking whatever drug was hot that week (always on trend, me) and a relationship is literally the last thing on your mind. Besides, who needs a boyfriend when you’ve got other trashbags for company and Grindr for orgasms? Furthermore, who has time for a boyfriend when you’re high three days and week and coming down the other four? And you wouldn’t dream of opting out of your LTR with house music and mephedrone for something more serious. Growing up?
But of course, there comes a time when do want to grow up. And I don’t just mean when your whole Grindr screen is blue and everyone in Fire is either too ugly or you’ve already shagged. The sweaty steroid backs endlessly dancing under dark archways and shagging anything that moves, are eventually as appealing as bathing in sewage water. And probably dirtier. Let’s face it, while you may still be having fun on the clubbing scene, if you think you’ll meet the love of your life in the smoking area of Union; you, are mistaken bitch.
But it’s not just about not meeting somebody that you find incompatible. It’s about how potential mates view you. And not only because you need scaffolding to keep your jaw in place, or are sweating like Oprah when she sees Lady Gaga.
The Vauxhall lifestyle comes with an abundance of negative stereotypes, that even if they aren’t true to you, you can find yourself being labelled with. You’re surrounded by hedonism, promiscuity, abnormal behaviour and weak-willed people; so whether you fit into these categories or not, there’s a high possibility that you’ll be attached through association. It also suggests there’s a lack of substance to your life; all of which I’m sure aren’t attributes you actively seek in a man.
Which is in-part why you rarely date anybody from that scene. It wouldn’t be unusual to be in the awkward situation where somebody you’ve chatted to on Grindr is at the bar, a guy you’ve had sex with is by the podium, and there’s a number of drug-fuelled fondlings in the smoking area. Of course, none of them have ever worked out as anything remotely meaningful, because the bottom line is, trashy boyfriends are hard work; unreliable, argumentative and quite frankly, scatty as fuck.
Sure, you may feel like Beyoncé at the VMAs, as you strut through (God forbid) Club 65 (or whatever that shit hole’s called now), but you look like Whitney… Near the end.
Even when you do find time between after parties and Black Tuesday to date normal guys, when the question arises “where do you go out?” you’re faced with the option of lying – which let’s face it – never got anybody anywhere substantial. Or telling the toxic truth and receiving the double Whatsapp tick and no reply.
Anybody who’s been to Vauxhall will know that it comes hand-in-hand with a certain amount of sleaze. So when you are looking for something more serious, if a guy says he goes out in Vauxhall a lot, you know exactly the environment he’s surrounded by – and the prospect of your new man ending up at a chill out where dozens of guys are sauntering around the kitchen in lycra playsuits under the influence of drugs that make them uncontrollably horny, isn’t exactly the ideal scenario.
But it’s kind of a Catch 22 because as your single-self, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t go out and party, if that’s what you enjoy. But that type of lifestyle tends to keep you single for longer. And of course, the longer you’re single the more accustomed you become to getting off your face.
There was a time when I knew every mother fucker in that place – but while I had a phonebook flourishing with dealers, sluts and people I couldn’t remember, what I never had was a worthwhile relationship. Or any relationship for that matter. Which I’ve no doubt is due to the fact that the decent ones are at work on a Tuesday morning, not waiting for their fourth delivery since Friday.
So where are all the eligible men? I can tell you where they’re not… yep, Vauxhall. Eligible men can’t stay up for three days straight getting fucked on alloy cleaner because they have jobs. Eligible men don’t have multiple partners a weekend because they respect themselves. And finally, eligible men have too much intelligence and dignity to sit in the smoking area each weekend listening to the utter drivel that comes from the mouths of trashbags.
Of course I’m not saying that everybody who has ever been to Vauxhall should be ruled out as a partner, (hello, total catch here), and nor am I saying that everyone who goes there occasionally is completely ineligible, but, those that do so on a regularly basis will certainly have difficulties finding a long-term monogamous relationship.
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